


Hearts Don't Break Around Here

by xStephyG



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Action/Adventure, Adventure, Adventure & Romance, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Because I can, F/M, Fantasy, Gen, Romance, cullen as a companion, it's just an excuse to rewrite inquisition as a somewhat cheesy romance novel tbh, reposted
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-02
Updated: 2017-03-11
Packaged: 2018-09-27 20:04:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10044311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xStephyG/pseuds/xStephyG
Summary: A re-imagining of Inquisition focusing on Cullen as a companion and his relationship with the Inquisitor





	1. Chapter 1

He stared up at the swirling vortex scarring the sky. It spewed out demons and destruction for as far as the eye could see, raining down chaos and despair. He felt impotent. Cullen Rutherford was a man of action and not being able to do more to help was all but destroying him. But he knew he had his duty and duty comes before all else, including his own desires. He must wait until the prisoner awakens to get the answers to the questions so many were asking.

Hours of waiting rolled into days and with each passing moment, Cullen’s frustration grew. The news from the Inquisition’s forward positions in the valley was bleak at best. They were losing as many lives as they were saving. The prisoner was recovering from her injuries but still had not woken, leaving everything and everyone in a demon infested purgatory until she did.

It was on the third day, just as Cullen’s frustration was reaching its breaking point the news finally reached him.

The heavy Chantry doors opened behind him but he did not turn his scowl from the sky until Leliana spoke out. “She’s awake.” Cullen let out a sigh of relief and gave a silent prayer of thanks to the Maker. “She’s waiting for us below.”

“Let’s go.” Cullen said, motioning Leliana back through the door before following after her. “The sooner we get answers the better.”

They walked in silence down into the depth below Haven’s Chantry. The prisoner had been brought to one of the cells left over from the time when the Cult of the Sacred Ashes called Haven their home. The stone walls and floors in the lower chamber were still stained crimson in places from the Cult’s foul deeds and most of Haven’s current inhabitants refused to descend the steps. But once the prisoner began to show signs of waking, she needed to placed somewhere she could not escape from.

Once the pair had reached the door at the end of the dank passageway, Cullen paused. He took a deep breath as he gathered his discipline. He had already seen the prisoner several times while she was unconscious and though she had been battered and bruised, he would have had to be made of silverite to not have noticed and be affected by her striking beauty. But a pretty face does not excuse her possible guilt or free her from answering their questions. He would not allow himself to be swayed by her features, no matter how bewitching they may be.

“I will be observing only.” Leliana declared, pulling Cullen’s attention to her. He raised his brow in a silent question. Her answer was firm, leaving no room for argument. “There is much to learn from simply watching and listening. You will be leading the questioning.”

With a nod of acceptance, Cullen gave a silent prayer to the Maker that the prisoner would have answers for them… and for the strength and discipline to overcome her allure so that he may do his duty. Taking a final solidifying breath, he pushed open the door and marched in.

The sight that greeted him stole the breath from his lungs. The prisoner knelt in the middle of the room, surrounded on all sides by soldiers with their longswords trained on her. Her scarlet waves framed her round cheeks, the shining locks reflecting the firelight of the torches lining the walls. She gazed up at him from over her freckled nose with a pair of eyes that were as brilliant as the most flawless emeralds. There was unmistakeable fear in those eyes. As he approached, a whimper so quiet it may as well have not existed slipped from between her full lips. Cullen’s chest tightened instantly. He had expected - hoped for, really - outrage, maybe even arrogance. His desire to console her was rapidly winning out over his duty.

The clatter of swords being returned to their scabbards brought him back to his senses. Steeling himself, he strode forward and began a slow pace around the prisoner, watching her closely. She shivered. He told himself it was from the chill in the air.

“Tell me what happened.” He demanded in a hard voice from behind her. She remained silent, dropping her gaze to her lap. He held in his sigh and tried again. “What happened at the Temple of Sacred Ashes?”

Slowly, she lifted her head and looked up at him. Her eyes were misted with the beginnings of tears. “I don’t know… I don’t remember…” Her voice trembled. Fear still masked her features but it was accompanied by confusion. She looked so lost, so alone, and it tore through him.

He softened his voice for his next question, hoping to put her at ease. “Tell me what you do remember then.”

Her brow twisted together as her eyes darted back and forth, searching, then she turned her attention to her bound hands resting in her lap. “I was... being chased...” She was so quiet that Cullen had to lean in to hear her. “There was a woman.”

“A woman?” Leliana asked, pushing away from the wall she was standing by. Cullen looked to her and she stared back with a hard gaze, a clear challenge for him to say something about her interruption. He wouldn’t dare.

“She- she reached out to me.” The prisoner explained, her gazed fixed on Leliana now. “But then…” She shook her head, disbelieving her own words. Her chin dropped to her chest and her shoulders sagged further. With a defeated sigh, she repeated her earlier admission. “I don’t know.”

Cullen knelt down beside her and brushed his fingertips along the side of her left hand. She jerked it away as though he had burned her. “Can you explain this?” He asked gently. The sickly green scar across her palm pulsed and glowed. Though her head was bowed Cullen could still see the grimace on her lips. She didn’t speak this time, only whimpered and shook her head.

Heaving an exasperated sigh, Cullen lifted himself up and turned to Leliana. Though her expression was impassive he knew she was as defeated as him. There were no answers to be had here. He wanted to believe the prisoner was lying to them, that her forlorn appearance and confusion were all a clever ruse. But looking upon her, hearing the anguish in her quavering voice, he knew in his heart she was speaking the truth. And was as unsettled by this entire situation as they were.

“What happened?” The prisoner whispered after a moment of silence had passed.

Cullen shot Leliana a questioning look to which she replied with a curt nod. He squared his shoulders and began the arduous task of explaining the tragedy that had befallen those who had been present at the Divine’s Conclave. He left out a great many details, only saying that there had been an explosion and there were no survivors.

He lowered himself to a knee beside the prisoner once more, softened his voice and finished his telling. “You walked out of the Fade.” He paused, trying to gage her reaction then continued when he saw no distinguishable change. “Our soldiers found you and brought you back here.”

There was silence then. Seconds dragged on into minutes before finally, the prisoner lifted her face to look at him. Tears streamed down her ruddy cheeks from anguished eyes. Cullen was forced to clench his fists to keep himself from wiping the moisture from her face. “All those people…” She whispered, her voice trembling. “Dead… Maker guard their souls.”

“There’s more.” Leliana announced when she realized Cullen wasn’t going to continue.

Cullen fought the urge to scowl at her. He understood the necessity of her statement but still took exception to her callousness. He would explain everything in due time, but dammit, he wasn’t going to rush. They had survived this long, a few more minutes would not make a difference now. Before she could continue he rose to his feet and marched over to stand directly in front of her, putting himself between the prisoner and spymaster.

“Go to the forward camp, Leliana.” He ordered harshly. She scowled at him but he wasn’t deterred. “I will take her to the Rift.” She glowered at him for a long moment before finally giving him a curt nod and taking her leave.

Returning to the the prisoner’s side, Cullen took hold of her elbow and helped her regain her feet. She swayed for a moment, her legs numbed by maintaining a knelt position for so long but was steadied by Cullen’s firm grip. Once he was sure she wouldn’t stumble again, he took the offered key from the waiting soldier and unlocked the manacles on her wrists.

He had to fight to keep is expression natural when he handed the heavy metal bar to the soldier. The young man took the bar in one hand and offered a length of sturdy rope with the other. It was a precaution, a completely unnecessary one since the prisoner was completely docile, but Cullen would follow it all the same. If only to placate those around him.

Snatching the rope from the soldier, Cullen turned back to the prisoner. He wasn’t entirely sure what he expected her reaction to the rope would be. He knew there wouldn’t be a fight. But this wasn’t at all in the realm of possibilities in his mind.

The prisoner stood straight backed, her head held high. Moisture clinged to her cheeks from the tears she had shed earlier but her eyes were dry now. A gentle smile had caught the edges of her lips and the look in her eyes… acceptance. But most astonishing of all were her hands. She held them out in front of her, wrists together, waiting for him to bind her once more.

A flash of annoyance overtook Cullen as he roughly twined the rope around her wrists. How could she give up so easily? Did she yearn for a cage? How could she not fight for her freedom? With the rope securely in place he chanced another glance at her face. It was then that he realized the truth. Her actions were not born of cowardice. This was courage.

She focused on their hands, watching him tie a knot firmly in place. The acceptance he had seen in the her eyes had vanished, having been replaced by pure, inconsolable fear. Yet her smile stayed in place, her shoulders remained squared, and her chin was still up.

Cullen felt lower than a snake’s belly.

With a resigned sigh, he took hold of the prisoner’s arm and guided her out the door. They walked in complete silence. He kept his eyes fixed on her profile, and Maker, it was a beautiful sight. Her chubby cheeks were adorable and save for the the smattering of freckles over her nose, cheeks, and forehead, her complexion was flawless. She looked as innocent and lovely as a cherub.

“Where are you taking me?”

Her gentle voice plucked Cullen out of his stupor. He quickly diverted his attention to opening the door that led below the Chantry. “There is something you must see.”

When they reached the Chantry’s main doors, Cullen didn’t hesitate. He threw open the heavy doors and marched outside. Planting himself not but ten steps outside the doors, he crossed his arms over his broad chest waited for the prisoner to join him outside.

She moved with wary steps, afraid that this could be a trick of some sort. Her eyes needed time to adjust to the sudden change in light. She blinked rapidly against the brightness but when her vision finally came into focus her eyes widened in shock and disbelief.

Cullen gave her a moment to take in the sight before stepping forward. “We call it the Breach.” Right on cue, the swirling vortex pulsed and with it, the prisoner’s sparked to life. Her scream of agony gutted him. And when her knees buckled he lurched toward her.

He began to reach for her but halted when he remembered Leliana’s scowl and the reason behind it. He was being too soft. Affecting a hardened expression, he knelt before her and pointed to the prisoner’s glowing hand. “We have reason to believe that, whatever it is, can close it.”

He expected questions, panic, more fear. He expected her to run. To refuse. He was prepared to coerce, to demand, threaten, anything to gain her cooperation. But once again, the prisoner defied all expectations.

She clasped her right hand over her left, trying to soothe the ache and smoother the glow then lifted a determined gaze to meet his. “I’ll do whatever I can to help.”

Reining in his bewilderment, Cullen studied the enchanting woman before him. Her shoulders trembled and a pained grimace was affixed to her face. But her eyes… if the eyes truly were the window to the soul than hers were surely made of the purest glass. There was no hiding what she was thinking, what she was feeling, when he looked into those flawless emeralds.

Clasping her shoulders, Cullen hauled the both of them to their feet. His touch lingered longer than was necessary, his fingers sliding down the lengths of her arms before he finally, and reluctantly, let go. Producing a dagger from his belt, he cut through her bindings, allowing the rope to fall where it may.

“Then let’s get started.”

He offered her his hand. And when her fingertips swept over his smooth leather glove, for a fleeting moment, he forgot why they were even there.


	2. Chapter 2

She was having a nightmare. Surely, that was the only explanation as to what was happening. Any moment now this would all disappear and she would wake at camp in the valley, one of her Templar guardians informing her of breakfast. Or better yet, she would open her eyes to find herself back in Ostwick, safe in her room at the Circle. So sure was she that none of this was real, she was barely paying any mind to the explanation of her predicament being given by the warrior racing up the mountain path with her. **  
**

In truth, his presence was yet another reason she believed she had to be in the Fade. There was no possible way men who looked like him existed. His obvious strength and considerable height should be intimidating - the top of her head barely reached his shoulder - but she found herself drawn to him because of it. Or perhaps it was his perfectly coiffed blonde curls that she so wanted to run her fingers through. There were his eyes, as well: a warm amber that radiated kindness even when he had been scowling at her. Then there was his lush lips adorned with a roguish scar that filled her mind with wholly unladylike and completely inappropriate thoughts. He was most definitely an illusion conjured to trick her. Or worse, a desire demon sent to tempt her.

He wasn’t real. None of this was.

“Look out!”

Evie barely had time to turn before a strong arm wrapped around her waist and her head was shoved down onto a hard shoulder. Suddenly, the world slipped out from under her feet and she was falling while being cradled protectively in the arms of her new companion. It wasn’t until he landed on his back and she was laying on top of him that she realized what had happened. The stone bridge they had been crossing was struck by falling debris, destroyed, and now they were laid out on the frozen stream below it.

She remained perfectly still, her fingers wrapped tightly around the fur covering his shoulders and her face pressed to his throat. He held her close, one hand splayed across her back while the other cradled her head. He seemed to be protecting her. She knew it was rude, seeing as he had been so kind toward her, but she was still quite surprised by his actions. She had been his prisoner less than an hour before.

Once the falling stones had settled around them, Evie tried to pull away from the warrior’s embrace, wanting to thank him for his considerate action and ensure he had not been injured while acting so chivalrously but he tightened his hold on her. She was about to ask him what he was doing but before she could part her lips, he rolled them to the side and pushed her away.

“Stay back.” He ordered. At the same time he bound to his feet and pulled his sword from its scabbard and shield from his back. It was then that Evie saw the Shade looming on the ice several feet away from them.

That was the moment she decided that she was most definitely in the Fade. It was true that the warrior foolishly charging toward the demon had told her this so-called “Breach” in the sky was spitting out demons but that was just madness. Demons cannot leave the Fade and man cannot enter it.

Despite believing irrevocably in these rules, Evie still felt fear grip her entire being when the ground between herself and her companion exploded in green fire and a second Shade erupted from within. Her eyes darted to the warrior but his back was to her, busy fending off the first demon. Her next thought was to run, but she knew not where to go or how far she would be able to make it before the demon caught up to her. Another chilling thought invaded her mind, as well: if she ran the Shade could simply turn on the warrior who so valiantly protected her during their fall and was continuing to do so now. It could flank him, catching him completely unaware, and kill him.

There was a staff laying only a foot from where she stood, half buried in the rubble from the bridge. Before her fear could get the best of her, Evie raced over and took up the weapon. Her offensive magic had never been strong. In truth, she abhorred violence to such an extent she had barely participated in any classes for battle magic.

But she did have other skills.

Keeping a firm grip on the staff, she focused her will, calling forth the energy of the Fade, and fashioning it into a protective barrier. If the warrior noticed that he was now shielded in the young mage’s aura, he showed no outward reaction. He continued to hack and slash at the demon, shoving it back with his shield any time it tried to advance.

Confident that her barrier was firmly in place, Evie turned her attention to her own protection now. A slightly weaker barrier sprang into place around her just as the second Shade had reached her. She jumped back, narrowly avoiding its razor-sharp claws and surprising herself with her own fast reaction. However, her quick reflexes did nothing to staunch her fear. She stared into the face of the Shade, the hollow blackness that gazed back chilled her to the core.

What happened next was unclear in her mind. One moment she was facing down a charging demon, and the next her warrior saviour was holding her by her shoulders.

“It’s done now.” He declared firmly. “Calm yourself.”

She stared at him in utter confusion for a long moment before she felt it. Her hands were glowing a pale blue with mage ice, the wood where she gripped the staff frozen solid. She stumbled backwards, out of the warrior’s gentle grip until her back connected with the remainder of the bridge’s stone supports. She shook her head in disbelief for a moment before stopping to take a deep, calming breath. It took her a full minute before she was steadied enough to rein in her magic and regain some of her control.

“I… I…” Her eyes darted across the ice, searching for her words.

Forcing herself to remember her discipline, she squared her shoulders, straightened her back, and lifted her chin. “You have my apologies, ser.” She told the warrior while only being able to lift her gaze high enough to peer at his chin. He had a dimple hidden underneath the scruff there. She would have called it adorable if it didn’t belong to such a gallant and fearsome fighter. Forcing her eyes down to his cuirass, she took a single step forward. “That will not happen again, I assure you.”

“I should hope not.” His voice sounded light, with maybe even a touch of humour there, but she couldn’t be sure. She dare not look into his eyes to find out; she would never be able to tear her gaze away afterwards.

But even the idea that he might be laughing at her made her shrink. Her shoulders drooped and her chin fell to her chest. Turning the staff, she still held on its side and offered the weapon to the warrior’s boots. “I also apologize for arming myself. I did not mean to be a hindrance in battle.”

“A hindrance?” He sounded confused. She didn’t understand why.

“Yes, ser. I-I could have gotten us both killed with my ineptitude. I should not have intervened. Please, take the staff before I can do any more damage.”

He took a step toward her, closing the distance between them almost entirely before speaking. “You think…” He paused long enough for Evie’s curiosity to get the better of her. His look of confusion confounded her. And his handsome features caused her stomach to tighten and her face to heat. “There will be more fighting before we reach our destination, of that I am sure. And I could use the assistance.”

Evie shook her head emphatically. “But, ser, I am quite certain I will only be in the way.” She insisted once more, trying to force the staff into his hands.

A knee-quaking grin appeared on his lips as he finally reached for the staff. But instead of taking the weapon from her hands, he wrapped his fingers around hers and took a step forward until there was naught but their breath separating them. “Cullen.” He murmured.

She stared up at him, her mind completely blank. Maker, but he had a handsome smile. She was quite sure if any other man had a scar bisecting his upper lip it would be a flaw. He made it seem like an asset. Realizing she had been staring at him like a simpleton, she forced her gaze to his chest to regain some semblance of coherent thought. “I beg your pardon, ser?”

“My name, it’s Cullen.” He explained kindly. She nodded to let him know she had heard him. “And yours?”

A long minute passed before she realized exactly what he was asking her. “Evie…” She finally confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. “My name is Evie.”

Tipping her head back with a crooked finger beneath her chin, he gave his order in a voice so gentle it robbed her of any senses she had remaining. “Evie, you can and you will assist with the fighting from here on out. I will protect your front.” He paused to give her hand a squeeze. “And you will protect my back.”

She very nearly collapsed to the ice when he released her but made a quick recovery, praying he didn’t notice her frazzled demeanour. He didn’t wait for her to agree to his command. He turned and began walking toward the bank. After a moment, she realized he meant for her to follow. She slung the staff over her back and began to walk toward him.

That was when she saw it.

Barely a foot from where they had landed stood the Shade that descended upon her. At a quick glance one might think it were still capable of attacking. However, a longer inspection would reveal the truth: it was frozen near to the core. The realization struck her like a punch to the stomach. She had done that. She had lost control. Yes, it was a Shade this time. But next time it could be a person. She could not live with that kind of blood on her hands.

Forcing what she hoped was an impassive expression, she turned from the Shade to follow after Cullen. She didn’t want him to know what she was feeling. She couldn’t stand the thought of him, or anyone, knowing how scared she was, how weak.

When she reached him at the edge of the bank where he was waiting for her, she did her utmost to keep her head up. She even forced herself to look into his eyes. The smile he offered her very nearly knocked her off her feet.

For just a moment, she forgot why she had even been afraid in the first place.


End file.
